


Moving Furniture

by Thoughts Like A Minefield (Incog_Ninja)



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2019 [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dreams, F/M, Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, there's a dog, this is when Cas is human and works at the Gas 'n Sip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 02:10:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17520200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incog_Ninja/pseuds/Thoughts%20Like%20A%20Minefield
Summary: “We survive this and I’m gonna order a pizza and we’re gonna move some furniture around. You understand?” - Meg Masters





	Moving Furniture

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marksmanfem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marksmanfem/gifts).



 

Cas isn’t human – neither male nor female, black nor white, saint nor sinner. In the simplest of terms, Cas is a graceless angel in the body of a human man. Cas understands, then, why feelings overwhelm Jimmy Novak’s senses, why dreams come to him at night when he sleeps.

From what Cas knows of dreams, they’re essential to human sanity. _Human_ sanity. So why does Jimmy Novak’s vessel dream of Meg?

“Clarence.” Meg’s whiskey-sweet voice flows from her rose petal lips. Her back is to him, but her head is turned; she’s batting her dark, feathery lashes at Cas, coy smile turning the corners of her mouth upright.

The sunlight streaming through the window sheers has her lit like something of which even Jimmy wouldn’t dare speak. Then she turns to face him fully and her smile blooms brighter. Cas isn’t sure where Cas ends, where Jimmy begins, or where Steve even is; but Meg’s there, and that’s all that matters.

“What’re you doin’ over there, anyway?” she asks, sauntering closer. “Looking so very serious.”

When Cas looks down, he’s slumped in a straight wooden chair, trench coat and suit jacket long gone, no blue vest or nametag to be found. Just a pressed white button-down, open at the neck. He’s relaxed and his mind is hazy. “I don’t know,” he answers.

A fleeting thought makes him sigh and shift in the seat of the glossy walnut – would Meg be strong enough to endure his true visage, his true voice?

“I think you think too much, pizza boy,” Meg says with a fond smile as she straddles Cas’ lap, drapes her clasped hands around the back of his neck.

“Pizza _man_ ,” Cas corrects her, looking up into her heart-shaped face as Jimmy’s hands – his hands – rest on her slender hips.

“ _My_ man,” Meg mutters, dipping her head to take his lips with hers. For several moments, they kiss. She sighs and Cas echoes her sigh. His hands move slowly, slide up under her jacket, down her thighs, caressing and teasing.

Cas doesn’t tease her intentionally – not to be cruel – but he likes the sounds she makes when he does. He likes how soft she is, how she moves and tastes, and then how she smells after they’ve been kissing and touching for a while.

He stands and her legs wrap his waist. She lets go a small huff of laughter and rubs his nose with hers. When he reaches the bed, he knees onto it, carefully places her in the center and braces himself over her.

Cas is just slotting himself between her legs, feeling the warmth of her breath against his neck when his alarm goes off.

He’s in the storeroom in his narrow sleeping cot. He blinks rapidly, feeling the inherent coolness of the cinderblock space seep into his bones. He shivers before tossing the blanket aside and swinging his legs over the edge of the cot to start his day.

“Steve” makes coffee, refreshes hot dogs, sells lottery tickets and scratch-offs. He wipes down counters and throws away empty sugar packets and discarded swizzle sticks. When Nora comes in, he takes a break, eats his lunch, then finishes the rest of his shift. At the end of his workday, he goes for a walk.

There’s a park Cas visits pretty regularly. On the late afternoon sunny side of the park is a large, shady oak tree. He likes to sit under that tree and watch people with their dogs and kids, couples sharing romantic moments. It’s one more place Cas carries Meg with him.

Cas settles in his spot under the tree, listens to the birds overhead, runs his fingers through the soft grass. Twenty-minutes or so into his visit, Cas stretches out to watch the light fluffy clouds float across the sky through the thick leaves of the tree. Before he can catch himself, he’s dozing off, the sounds of a gentle breeze and children laughing lulling him along.

“A little to the left,” Meg says, a smile in her voice. “Your other left, Clarence.”

“Oh, right,” Cas says, and Meg laughs out loud, making him roll his eyes at himself for walking into that one.

“Even if that wasn’t intentional,” she says, drawing closer to Cas as he backs away from the armoire to take a look at his work. She wraps her arms around his waist and ducks under his arm. “I’ll give you the points for making me laugh.”

Cas looks down at her where she’s tucked into his side peering up at him, impish grin dimpling her rosy cheeks.

“I like it there, don’t you?” she asks, looking back at the armoire. Cas holds his gaze on her smooth, sweet face for a few extra beats before slowly turning to inspect the placement of the large piece of furniture.

“It’s perfect,” Cas replies, not really caring where they put anything, as long as Meg keeps smiling.

“Okay, then,” she says, sliding all the way around in front of him, hooking her thumbs in his back beltloops. “Let’s take a break,” she says. “I’ll order some pizza.” She raises up on her tiptoes and her eyes flutter shut.

Cas dips his head and lets her press her lips to his. His arms are wrapped around her, swallowing up her small frame, and he’s suddenly desperate for her.

He deepens the kiss and Meg gasps and tightens her slight arms around him. Then he’s backing her toward the couch, kicking his shoes off, pushing his hands in to her hair. She’s so small to him, her frame, her china-doll face, her slim wrists and hands.

As he lays her down and drapes himself over her, she giggles, scooting up against the arm of the couch, dropping her head in the cradle of pillows. “Or maybe you’re hungry for something else,” she says, her voice softer than he’s used to hearing, almost bashful, uncertain.

But her eyes are sparkling, and her cheeks are flushed. Her chest rapidly rising and falling in time with her breath as it comes in small quick, huffs.

“Yes,” Cas whispers, holding her eyes with his as long as he can until his mouth is finally on her throat. She arches into him, raises her knees around his sides, slides her small hands around his back.

“Yes,” she echoes, twining her legs with his and bucking against him.

Cas’s lips and teeth and tongue leave marks on her delicate, ivory skin. She tastes like vanilla and chocolate swirl. With sprinkles. “Dessert,” he says, dragging his lips down her neck, over her collarbone.

Meg burrows deeper into the couch, pulls her hands from his body and stretches them over her head. Cas clasps her wrists in one of his hands and pins them in place and sighs with a smile as her eyes fall closed. “Ohhh, Clarence,” she moans.

“Yes,” he says as an affirmation, kissing her lips, pushing his tongue inside, tasting her.

He doesn’t waste time manually removing her clothes, he simply wills them away from hindering his travels over every inch of her body. He touches, licks, and sucks his way down until he’s propped her knees over his shoulders and buried his face in between her legs.

Meg uses her newly released hands to guide him, her fingers gently twisting in his soft, black hair as his tongue gathers up her slick then dips inside for more of the hot, tangy brine of her need.

“Inside, Clarence,” she speaks urgently, thrusting against his mouth and chin. “I need-” she gasps when she feels two thick fingers plunge deep.

Cas’s grunts and gasps and sounds of sucking are accompanied by Meg’s profane words. Their bodies writhe together like rutting animals in a forest, and the smell of sex and sweat is heavy in the air. When Meg comes, she cries out his name – _Castiel_ – in supplication.

Cas places a kiss to her inner thighs, one at a time, brushes his lips from hipbone to hipbone, and finishes climbing his way up her body, wedging his thick hips and thighs between her smooth, bare legs.

As he braces his forearms on either side of her head, he speaks. “Open my pants,” he says, drilling her in place with the stormy seas of his eyes. “Now.”

She visibly shivers and obeys. Without further ado, Cas pushes inside her, slow and deft, and she’s groaning so sweet.

“Castiel,” she breathes. “Kiss me. Please kiss me.” She begs and uses her lips to entice him as he begins to thrust, slanting his soft lips over her pout.

Before long he’s moving fast and hard over her, inside her tight heat. She comes fast, and Cas keeps hammering. Hammering and kissing her and saying her name, telling her she’s beautiful and brave, that he misses her so, that he has much to tell her, that he wishes he could’ve saved her.

“Meg,” he hears himself say her name, and then he feels a long swipe of sloppy wet tongue over his jaw, smells dog breath, and hears a woman’s voice apologizing with such a high pitch in her voice, he almost cringes.

“It’s… all right,” he says, blinking rapidly, pushing up on his elbows. The dog, a small brindled shepherd mix, is hopping all around him, but the woman is doing well to keep it at bay. The pink metal bone-shaped tag dangling from the furry beast’s collar catches Cas’s eye, and he’s momentarily stunned.

“I think she thought you were hurt or something,” the woman says with a nervous laugh. Finally, the dog sits, if still fidgeting to get nearer to Cas. “You’re okay, though, right?”

“Sure, I’m…” Cas blinks a few times before realizing his eyes are not playing tricks on him. “I’m fine.” Cas waves the woman’s concern away as he stands. “Her name is… Meg?” he asks, feeling his belly flip a time or two.

“Oh, yeah,” the woman answers with a smile and a pat to the girl’s head. “She’s a rescue,” the woman says, as if it’s an explanation. “Not quite a year old, but she’s very smart. Aren’t you, Meg?” The woman dotes on her dog.

“She’s… beautiful,” Cas says, and the woman returns a grateful smile.

“Oh, thank you,” she says. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. It looks like it might rain here in a bit. Do you need a ride somewhere, or… ?” The woman looks around at the few cars left by the park.

“No,” Cas replies. “Thank you.”

He drops his gaze to the dog one final time. “Thanks for checking on me, Meg,” he says, reaching out a hand to touch her. His sad smile is turned light when Meg laps at his palm and stands to wiggle and wag, happily.

Cas nods tightly and bids the stranger and her companion farewell before turning and heading back to the Gas n’ Sip. It does begin to rain on his way there, but he barely notices. He’s soaked to the bone by the time he steps inside the back of the store.

“Steve!” Nora gasps. “I was worried about you.” She rushes toward him with a towel. “I was just putting these back here for you, hoping you’d be back soon. Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you, Nora,” Cas says. “I’m fine. I appreciate the towel, though. Thanks.” He rubs the towel over his wet hair a few times and begins to unbutton his shirt.

“Okay, well, I’ll just…” Nora thumbs over her shoulder to indicate she’s headed back out into the store before reluctantly going there.

Cas is smiling as he kicks his wet shoes to the side and sits on the edge of his cot. He’s still smiling when he climbs, slightly damp and chilled under his covers and settles into the thin mattress. “Good night, Meg,” he says to the empty storage room.

But Cas believes that wherever she is, she can hear him. And that’s enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you marksmanfem for your support and your eyes. xox


End file.
